


midnight crazy

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Biting, Canon Universe, Group Sex, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2019-01-19 18:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12415965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Out of everyone in the group, Kitayama would be the last person Fujigaya would hook up with.





	midnight crazy

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for kink bingo.

“Good work!” the photographer calls out, and Fujigaya finally releases his reluctant clutch on Kitayama. He doesn’t bother trying to pretend he enjoys these kinds of shoots anymore, especially with Duet.

“You should see your face,” Kitayama says as they join the others in the dressing room. “That’s not attractive at all. I’m almost offended.”

“I don’t know how you can put up with this,” Fujigaya grumbles as he flings off the ridiculous satin shirt that he had to sell his soul to keep fastened with one button.

Kitayama shrugs as he starts to change. “I can think of worse things than being paid to look gay with you.”

“Shouldn’t you be used to this by now, Taipi?” Nikaido hollers over from where he’s serving as a human chair for Senga. “You’ve spent over half your life in this business.”

“ _Anyone else_ ,” Fujigaya replies, turning to face the rest of them. “I’m tired of smelling his goddamn apple shampoo.”

Kitayama’s laughing so hard that he trips trying to get into his pants, and Fujigaya feels like a little justice has been served. “Part of their enjoyment is how much you hate it, you know. You should just shut up and take it like the rest of us.”

“That sounds kind of dubious,” Nikaido inputs. “Like the plot to one of those BL mangas or something.”

Fujigaya must be making another disgusted expression, because Kitayama laughs even more and pats him on the back as he walks by. “We have that to be grateful for, at least.”

“Don’t be so smug,” Fujigaya shoots back at him. “If they did make us do that, you know what role you’d have.”

Kitayama shrugs. “All in a day’s work.”

“I don’t get it,” Fujigaya says to his retreating back. “Out of everyone in this group, you would be the _last_ person I’d hook up with.”

“Oh _really_ ,” Miyata speaks up, abandoning his meticulous braids in Tamamori’s hair to face them, and Fujigaya notices the rest of the younger four suddenly interested as well. “Who would be the first?”

“Watta, obviously,” Fujigaya replies, and Yokoo gives a victory air punch without looking up from his magazine.

“Now I really am offended,” Kitayama teases, rolling his eyes.

“Who’s next?” Nikaido asks, and Fujigaya notices how he and Senga are both smirking at him.

“ _Not Kitayama_ ,” Fujigaya says pointedly.

“Oh, come on,” Miyata prods. “You have to have an order.”

Fujigaya stares at him. “This isn’t exactly something I think about often. Or ever.”

“I have an order,” Tamamori pipes up. “Miyacchi’s at the very end.”

“Yeah, right,” say four people, none of whom are Miyata.

“Kenpi’s my number one,” Nikaido offers, and the others look like he just told them the sky is blue. “After that is Miyacchi, Kitamitsu, Watta, Tama, and Taipi.”

Tama pouts. “So far down the list.”

“Taipi’s last on yours?” Senga asks curiously, shifting in his lap to look at Nikaido. “He’s third on mine after you and Kitamitsu.”

“Aw, thanks you two,” Kitayama says, beaming. “I’m glad someone likes me around here.”

Nikaido smiles at him, then turns back to Senga. “Taipi’s last because he would take the most effort. I mean, look how much he complains just being posed close to Kitamitsu.”

“Oh, that’s a good point.” Senga looks thoughtful. “I don’t mind making the effort, though. It would be fun to talk him into it, if you know what I mean.”

Miyata gasps at him. “I didn’t know Ken-chan was that kind of person.”

“I did,” Nikaido says with a grin.

Fujigaya just ignores them and finishes changing. It’s not the first time he’s been present for a conversation like this. He supposes he should be grateful that KAT-TUN isn’t involved anymore.

“Good work,” he says tonelessly as he turns to leave. He has plans with Kawai that don’t involve presuming what he’s like in bed.

*

It’s almost midnight by the time he heads home, earlier than usual due to ABC-Z’s ever growing schedule. Fujigaya’s happy that they’ve both debuted and stay busy with their respective work, even if his own group is a little trying at times.

Speaking of, he thinks as his phone rings and he recognizes the caller. “Hey Wataru, what’s up?”

“You busy?” he answers. “I’m bored and can’t sleep.”

Fujigaya laughs. “I’m on my way home, but I can head over. I’m not tired at all.”

“Cool,” Yokoo replies, and there are some muffled noises on his end of the line. “See you in a bit.”

“Who’s there?” Fujigaya asks, confused. If Yokoo has company, he shouldn’t be trying to go to sleep. That sounds like something Kitayama would do.

“No one,” Yokoo says quickly. “That’s just the TV.”

“Okay,” Fujigaya replies slowly, then ends the call. Yokoo is an awful liar, but Fujigaya’s sure he has his reasons. He trusts that Yokoo wouldn’t intentionally set him up for something unfavorable.

He eats his words when he knocks on Yokoo’s door (softly, since it’s so late) and is greeted by someone who is not Yokoo. It’s Senga, who gives him a big smile and an even bigger hug. Fujigaya jumps at the contact, but melts into the embrace as he kicks off his shoes. It’s the most affection he’s had in long awhile, and besides, it’s _Senga_. Nobody can stay mad at the baby of their group for too long.

“See, I told you we should send Kento in first,” Miyata’s voice sounds from the main room, though it appears to be muffled. “I bet he’s second on Taipi’s list.”

“Shut up about the goddamn list,” Tamamori barks at him, and Fujigaya realizes he’s being slowly pulled into Yokoo’s apartment. The first thing he sees is Miyata and Tamamori curled up on one of Yokoo’s recliners that is only meant for one person, wrinkling his nose as he learns that Miyata’s voice had been muffled by Tamamori’s neck.

Tamamori looks irritated and turned on at the same time, leaning as far away as he can, but also stretching out his neck for give Miyata more space to cover with his mouth. Before Fujigaya can react to this, he feels lips on his own neck and his eyes flutter shut; his main weakness.

“Mm, does Taipi like this?” Senga asks, his voice like a deep purr. “I thought it would be much more difficult to talk you into it.”

“You sound disappointed,” Fujigaya replies.

“A little,” Senga admits, followed by a low chuckle that goes right into Fujigaya’s pants. “Are you going to let us play with you?”

He follows the question with a light nip to his skin, and Fujigaya can’t stop the moan that escapes from his throat. Any protests he might have had quickly turn into arousal, his body quick to remind him that someone is offering him sex and he should take it.

“Just keep Kitayama away from me,” he mutters, giving in as he wraps his arms tighter around Senga’s middle.

“You don’t have to worry about him,” Senga says. “He likes to watch more anyway.”

Fujigaya cringes. “Things I didn’t want to know.”

He’s guided further into the main room and meets Nikaido’s possessive eyes, clearly disapproving of Fujigaya being so close to Senga. If this is going where Fujigaya thinks it’s going, though, there’s really no room for jealousy. His eyes only narrow a little as he notices Kitayama lounging on the couch by himself, gaze locked on Tamamori and Miyata, and pulls back enough to see Senga’s satisfied smirk. Senga licks his lips and the last of Fujigaya’s remorse disappears.

“Fuck it,” he concedes, and leans in to get this party started. But before their lips touch, a hand grabs him by his hair and spins him around, pulling him into a hot mouth that feels foreign and familiar at the same time. He knows it’s Yokoo by the teeth, tiny pricks on the inside of his lip that send Fujigaya’s blood raging through his veins as he easily transfers clinging arms to his friend.

“I knew he’d be easy,” Kitayama’s voice pierces the clouds in Fujigaya’s head. “You just had to pull the stick out of his ass.”

“Appropriate analogy,” Nikaido replies with a snort. “And replace it with what, exactly?”

Fujigaya ignores them and focuses on kissing Yokoo, his lips parting to a rather persistent tongue. Yokoo’s an intense kisser, but Fujigaya can keep up with him and nearly trips over an end table before falling backwards onto the couch, landing right on Kitayama’s legs. Kitayama’s grumble of discomfort is pleasing to Fujigaya’s ears, but the legs don’t move and Fujigaya finds that he doesn’t much mind the way they elevate his knees, allowing Yokoo to straddle him even closer.

“If it’s going to be like this, you could have just invited him over yourself,” Tamamori’s bitchy drawl breaks Fujigaya’s concentration enough to lean his head back, gasping for air.

“He said I was first, remember?” Yokoo casts over his shoulder. “It’s only right that I should be the first one to kiss him.”

“And this was your idea,” Kitayama adds from entirely too close.

“What, really?” Fujigaya asks, leaning up enough to look at Yokoo’s guilty face. “Why?”

“You need this,” Yokoo says simply, and Fujigaya sees the younger four nodding across the small room. “We’re doing this for you.”

“Not _all_ for you,” Miyata adds under his breath as he licks Tamamori’s cartilage piercing, and Tamamori visibly shivers.

“Who’s second, Taipi?” Nikaido asks, his eyes much less malicious and his voice much huskier with Senga back in his lap, swirling his hips a little as he grinds down.

“Hey, Watta,” Senga says, that smirk returning. “Taipi likes it when you bite his neck.”

“You little–” Fujigaya starts, but then Yokoo’s teeth are on his skin and he’s cut off by his own strangled moan as he struggles to focus on Senga. “For that, you’re not second anymore.”

“Yay, I’m second!” Senga cheers, and Nikaido holds onto him tighter. “Nika, let’s go over there with them.”

“I can’t take all of you sitting on me,” Kitayama says as Yokoo turns them around and pulls Fujigaya back against his chest. “I won’t be able to feel my legs.”

“Move then,” Nikaido demands, dragging Senga over by the waist and all but flinging him in Fujigaya’s lap, settling in behind him. Kitayama manages to roll out from under them at the last second, ending up on the floor with a resentful look, which makes Fujigaya smile.

There is some hushed whispering across the way, one of which is more like angry hissing, but Fujigaya doesn’t pay them much mind as Senga kisses him so hard that his mind spins. Yokoo’s lightly dragging his teeth along the back of Fujigaya’s neck, which has him gripping onto Senga’s shoulders and returning the kiss with everything he has.

Then Senga gasps into his mouth as Nikaido’s arm bumps into Fujigaya’s elbow, reaching between them. Fujigaya has a pretty good idea what he’s doing and finds himself a little envious, his own erection nearly straining his pants. He becomes very aware of Yokoo’s hands resting on his hips, motionless, and grabs his wrist to urge him down.

A chuckle answers him, one that sounds almost sadistic as Yokoo’s hands move up his shirt instead. “Not yet, Taisuke,” Yokoo whispers in his ear, and it’s a million times hotter than anything he’s ever said before. “It’s no fun if it ends too soon.”

Fujigaya feels a little insulted at the implication that he has no stamina, but then Yokoo’s fingers are flicking his nipples and he’s moaning into Senga’s mouth. Their kiss becomes more heated and desperate, and it feels strange because they’re not the ones making the other feel that way. Though Senga’s giggle tickles his lips when Yokoo’s teeth clamp down on the back of Fujigaya’s neck, making him jolt and whine at the complete lack of friction where he wants it.

“Taipi’s so hot like this,” Senga whispers between kisses. “Who’s after me on your list?”

“I don’t _care_ ,” Fujigaya replies. “Just somebody fucking touch me.”

“Even Kitamitsu?” Nikaido asks, and Fujigaya pops his eyes open to glare at him.

“You’re moved down to fifth place now,” Fujigaya tells him.

“That means it’s one of us,” Miyata says happily. “So just come over here.”

“There’s not enough room for all three of us on here,” Tamamori argues. “We’ll break Yokoo-san’s chair.”

“I have futons in the closet,” Yokoo offers, making no effort to move, and Fujigaya hears Tamamori’s huff of annoyance as he stomps across the floor, followed by Miyata’s regular footsteps.

Yokoo pushes Fujigaya closer to Senga, kissing the youngest member over Fujigaya’s shoulder, and Fujigaya glances over just in time to see Tamamori kick Kitayama in the side. “Either help or move your ass.”

“You’re such a bitch when you’re worked up,” Kitayama says, almost fondly, and Fujigaya almost laughs.

“Move before I throw Gaya down on top of you,” Tamamori threatens.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Kitayama mutters, but he uses what looks like a lot of effort to push himself up and out of the way enough for Miyata to unroll the futons. He barely has one down before Fujigaya’s grabbed by the arm and forcefully yanked off the couch, laid out on the hard cushions with Tamamori instantly covering his body and pressing their mouths together.

Tamamori’s a gentle kisser, but his intensity is fierce and Fujigaya can’t focus on anything but Tamamori’s tongue in his mouth and the way he’s rolling his hips against Fujigaya’s thigh. Fujigaya lifts his own hips toward nothing, whining as Tamamori’s fingers start to push up his shirt.

Someone lies down on his other side and kisses his neck; that’s definitely Miyata’s nose. Fujigaya arches and tears his mouth away from Tamamori’s as Miyata nips at his skin and helps pull off his shirt.

“What the _fuck_ ,” he grumbles. “Is the whole point of this to tease me into a hot mess or something?”

“Just making sure you get through everyone,” Yokoo replies from up on the couch.

“I can do without the last two,” Fujigaya says, making a face as he watches Yokoo and Senga pull Kitayama over to take his place. “Let’s finish this now.”

“Finish?” Senga replies with a laugh. “Oh, Taipi, we’ve just gotten started.”

Fujigaya starts to protest, but his face is seized and Miyata’s in his mouth, kissing him much better than he’d expect from that one. Tamamori’s lips are on his neck and dropping to his collarbone, then his nipple, and Fujigaya’s arching so much that his back is completely off the floor, hips snapping up toward nothing.

“Jesus,” someone says; he thinks it’s Kitayama, only two octaves lower than normal, and it’s not hot at all.

Then Tamamori’s teeth scrape against his nipple and the pitch of his next moan is almost embarrassing, his hand flying to Tamamori’s hair– not to push him away, but to hold him steady. Tamamori takes the hint and does it again, sending jolt after jolt of arousal through Fujigaya until he can’t do anything but squirm on the floor and take it out on Miyata’s tongue.

A harmony of moans sounds from the couch and Fujigaya turns to the side, only a little interested as he falls out of Miyata’s kiss. Nikaido has his hand in Senga’s pants and Yokoo’s kissing Kitayama so sloppily that Fujigaya can see their tongues, but the real eye-catcher is Senga’s head bobbing up and down in Kitayama’s lap, both Nikaido and Kitayama’s fingers threaded in his hair to gently guide him.

And Kitayama keeps peeking his eyes open to watch the three on the floor. Fujigaya doesn’t notice at first, until Kitayama tosses his head back with an obscene moan and Yokoo’s mouth lowers to his neck. Then Kitayama leans up and tosses Fujigaya a filthy smirk; Fujigaya tries to avert his eyes, but he can’t.

Tamamori bites his nipple again and Miyata’s licking his way down Fujigaya’s bare chest, taking a brief detour to flick Tamamori’s piercing again, and Tamamori’s low moan on Fujigaya’s sensitive skin has him trembling. But Miyata doesn’t stop, his fingers popping the button on Fujigaya’s pants and lowering the zipper, and Fujigaya’s so happy to finally get relief that he can’t be bothered with anything Kitayama does right now.

“God, please,” he gasps.

“You don’t have to call me God,” Miyata teases, and Fujigaya rolls his eyes. “At least not yet.”

“Is it time to go down already?” Nikaido asks, then laughs at the innuendo. “I mean onto the floor.”

“I’d prefer the other meaning,” Fujigaya comments, and this time it’s Tamamori who chuckles into his skin. Fujigaya’s only a little sad when Tamamori’s mouth returns to his, though it’s just brief as he rolls off and moves to Miyata’s other side, laying his head right next to Fujigaya’s and speaking into his ear.

“Ask me nicely and I’ll tell him to do it. He’ll do anything I tell him.”

Fujigaya moans as Miyata pulls off his pants and boxers, leaving him completely nude in the middle of Yokoo’s floor. His only consolation is that Kitayama is mostly undressed as well, though that’s not as comforting of a thought as it should be.

“Tama-chan, please ask him to do it,” Fujigaya says in his sweetest voice, giving Tamamori puppy eyes and a pout.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Tamamori replies, tapping his finger to his chin. “What do I get?”

“Him?” Fujigaya tries.

Tamamori narrows his eyes. “What kind of reward is that? That’s like saying you get chopsticks with your food.”

Nikaido laughs again, and now he’s much closer. “Can we move this along, please?” he asks no one in particular. “Taipi’s not the only one who’s been waiting.”

“Nika-chan is so impatient,” Senga teases him, his mouth clearly relieved of its duties for now, and Fujigaya turns his head to find the pair of them halfway out of their clothes and inseparable, Nikaido still behind Senga and rocking very pointedly against him. Yokoo’s underneath Senga and the closest to Fujigaya’s face, which serves as his excuse to _not_ look at Kitayama still on the couch with his cock in his hand and his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Hey, no repeats,” Nikaido says, and Yokoo’s pulled away from Fujigaya’s mouth before he even kisses him properly. “I’m next, dammit.”

“What do I get, Gaya?” Tamamori asks again, looking more sadistic that Fujigaya would have ever expected from him, and Fujigaya jumps when he feels breath on his length. “Or you can reserve the right to let me decide.”

“Fine, whatever, you can decide,” Fujigaya says quickly. “You want me to do it to you? Get the fuck up here.”

Tamamori shakes his head. “No, I’m good for now. Miyacchi, go ahead.”

A tongue flicks the head of Fujigaya’s cock and he moans loudly, not even trying to remain composed anymore. He reaches down to twist his fingers in Miyata’s hair and finds it surprisingly soft, slipping right out of his grip when he tries to urge him to do more, and he can swear Tamamori looks smug.

Then Miyata takes the head into his mouth and Fujigaya starts to snap his hips again, but two sets of hands pin him down and he groans in frustration. It’s Tamamori and Senga, both of whom just smirk when he glares at them, and he’s about to give them both a piece of his mind when his cock is engulfed all the way and all he can do is moan.

“Wow, Miyacchi is good at this,” Senga comments, and Tamamori looks pleased. They all seem to be watching him and it’s all Fujigaya can do to breathe, with Miyata going entirely too slowly to provide any relief, though his throat seems to never end.

“Taipi,” Senga whispers, and Fujigaya forces his eyes open to find Senga in his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Fujigaya replies, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “What are you–”

He’s interrupted by the sight of Senga tossing his head back, squeezing his eyes shut and moaning as he starts pushing back against Nikaido with more intent. “Nika’s fingers feel good, Taipi. They’re nice and long.”

“That’s… fuck,” Fujigaya replies, all of his nerves on fire from Miyata’s mouth barely working his cock. “Yeah?”

“He can do it to you, too,” Senga whispers, and it’s filthier than any AV movie Fujigaya has ever seen. “But you need to hurry, because he’s going to be busy soon.”

There is movement underneath him as well, and Fujigaya realizes that Senga is doing the same thing to Yokoo. He turns to see his good friend biting his lip and rocking up into the intimate touch, his face tinted pink in a way Fujigaya’s never seen before. He wonders if Yokoo looks like that during sex, too.

Miyata’s mouth starts moving faster, and Fujigaya’s attention is forcefully relocated between his legs as he’s now allowed to move his hips. He starts to twist his fingers in Miyata’s hair to fuck his face until Tamamori seizes his wrist and glares at him. None of that, then. But Fujigaya still pushes up into Miyata’s mouth, his moans spilling out as he gets close.

“Miyacchi, stop,” Tamamori orders, and Fujigaya narrows his eyes as much as he can while his body protests the sudden lack of contact. “Come back to me now.”

Miyata gives Fujigaya an apologetic look and sidles up behind Tamamori, returning to his ear. Fujigaya watches Tamamori’s eyes roll back into his head before he spins them around, shoving Miyata down onto his back and mounting him, the pair of them tearing at each other’s clothes while kissing deeply.

The next time Fujigaya looks up, Nikaido is hovering over him. “I should be a dick to you for moving me down the list, but lucky for you, I want to fuck just as badly as you do, so let’s get on with this.”

“Finally,” Fujigaya replies, accepting Nikaido’s tongue in his mouth before their lips even make contact. He feels slick fingers poking between his thighs and lifts his legs in response, making little whimpers that Nikaido swallows as he works those long fingers inside him.

“Damn, you’re tight,” Nikaido hisses. “Don’t you ever get laid?”

“Not as often as you sluts,” Fujigaya replies, arching as Nikaido prods him harder.

Senga laughs first, followed by the others. “Taipi should play with us more often.”

“Ken-chan, hurry,” Yokoo says, and Senga gives him a dirty smile as he rolls on a condom. Fujigaya notices Nikaido doing the same thing, despite being three fingers deep in Fujigaya and moving them in and out so fast that Fujigaya’s body is pushing back on its own.

“Wait,” Fujigaya says slowly as he surveys the arrangements on either side of him. Tamamori is already bouncing on Miyata’s cock, the pair of them unconcerned with everything around them, and Nikaido’s rhythm falters as he pushes himself inside Senga who pushes into Yokoo.

Then he looks up and sees Kitayama’s upside-down face. “How did you think this was going to end, Taisuke?”

“I hate you so much,” Fujigaya growls, looking him right in the eye.

“Clearly not,” Kitayama says, smirking down at him. “Even if I’m last, I’m still on the list.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” Fujigaya snaps, and Kitayama manages to hop over Tamamori and kneel between Fujigaya’s legs. Nikaido pulls his hand away and Kitayama’s there, already sheathed and ready and pushing into Fujigaya before he expects it. “Oh, shit.”

“Sorry, I’m kind of big,” Kitayama tells him, not looking sorry at all. “I’ll go slower.”

“It’s not that, you conceited ass,” Fujigaya says. “You just surprised me. It feels good.”

“Yeah?” Kitayama bottoms out and inhales sharply, shaking from the force he’s using to hold back. “You ready for more?”

“I’m ready for anything you can give me,” Fujigaya spits, wondering when this became a competition. All he knows is that he wants Kitayama to fall apart first, because then Fujigaya will _win_.

Kitayama looks like he wants to laugh, but he just presses his palms to the backs of Fujigaya’s thighs to hold them up and out as he starts to move. His face quickly changes into one of ecstasy and it’s _hot_ , the way his hair is stuck to his forehead and his lips are slightly parted. Fujigaya can’t keep his eyes off of him, and dammit, it turns him on even more.

It’s Senga who reaches over and trails shaky fingers down Fujigaya’s chest, teasing him into pushing back against Kitayama. When Senga gets to his nipple, he can feel himself tightening and Kitayama’s groan is beautiful, surging right through all of Fujigaya’s nerves. On the other side, Tamamori grabs Fujigaya’s closest hand and puts it on his cock, thick and hard, his moans escalating as Fujigaya takes the (blatant) hint and starts to stroke him.

“How badly do you want to come?” Kitayama asks, and Fujigaya glares at him.

“Don’t ask stupid fucking questions,” he answers.

Kitayama grins, then shifts his position to thrust even deeper and Fujigaya can’t keep his head up anymore. He squeezes his eyes shut and arches, taking it out on Tamamori who’s gasping next to him, and his other hand is grabbed before he can wrap it around himself. Another cock bumps his fingers and it has to be Yokoo; Fujigaya jerks him extra roughly, because this is all his fault.

“Oh, fuck,” Senga mumbles, followed by a deep moan that can only be what it is, and Yokoo’s right behind him as he spills over Fujigaya’s fist. Nikaido pushes Senga flat on top of Yokoo and rocks into him that way, covering Senga’s back with his chest in a more intimate position until he shudders and falls still with a low whisper of Senga’s first name.

Tamamori’s next, his breaths becoming audible until he gasps sharply and comes in Fujigaya’s other hand. Miyata groans beneath him and grabs both of his hips to thrust up, only making it a few cycles before he finishes with a grunt that Tamamori muffles with his mouth.

“Give me one,” Kitayama hisses, and Fujigaya doesn’t know what he’s talking about until he remembers the substance on both of his hands. He lifts up the one with Tamamori’s orgasm and wants to roll his eyes back into his head at the way Kitayama licks it up, pounding him harder. “You too.”

Fujigaya brings his other hand to his mouth and cleans it, wrinkling his nose at the bitter taste, but it’s not completely intolerable. Yokoo makes a satisfied noise next to him, much closer than before since Nikaido has pulled Senga closer to the couch while Yokoo curls up next to Fujigaya. Yokoo kisses him and Kitayama’s force doubles, leaving Fujigaya incapable of doing anything but panting into Yokoo’s mouth as everything in his body screams for release.

“Please,” he says weakly, all shame long since gone. “I’ve been good.”

“You’re still not being nice to Hiromitsu,” Yokoo says against his lips.

“Is that what this is about?” Fujigaya asks incredulously, rolling his eyes. “I’m letting him _fuck me_. What more do you want?”

“Taisuke,” Kitayama says, and Fujigaya turns his attention back to the man above him, moving inside him. His face is red and his eyes are barely open, and it’s so fucking sexy that Fujigaya can’t see straight anymore.

He feels like a human pretzel, but he manages to lean up enough to fist Kitayama’s hair and crush their mouths together, all of his animosity leaving him through their kiss. It’s rushed and desperate, both of them racing for release, and Fujigaya cries out when someone’s hand wraps around his cock. A mouth nips at the back of his neck and he knows it’s Yokoo, those sharp canines piercing his skin, and Fujigaya’s body is quickly overcome with shudders.

Kitayama’s groan dies on his tongue and that’s what finally pushes him over the edge, accompanied by Yokoo’s hard bite and heightened by the way Kitayama’s thrusts turn erratic as he starts to lose it. Fujigaya falls back to straighten out and Kitayama grabs him by the hips, his noises quiet but deep, and Fujigaya opens his eyes in time to watch him come, feeling it throb inside him.

For a while there’s nothing but calming breaths and Fujigaya’s heartbeat thumping in his head, and all he’s aware of is Yokoo jumping right up and Kitayama pulling out of him. The latter doesn’t go far, collapsing right on top of Fujigaya like a deadweight, and Fujigaya can’t bring himself to mind. His fingers find Kitayama’s hair and Kitayama makes a soft noise, leaning into the touch like a lazy cat.

Then a damp, balled-up washcloth hits him in the face, and he spares Yokoo a glare before stretching his legs with a hiss. Kitayama snatches the washcloth from him and Fujigaya starts to glare at him, too, then relaxes when Kitayama cleans him instead. It’s gentle and careful and Fujigaya starts to feel bad for the way he’s been treating him. It’s not Kitayama’s fault that everyone always pairs them together, after all.

“Kitayama–” he starts, but Kitayama just shakes his head and offers a sated smile. Fujigaya has a feeling he will see his flushed face and kiss-swollen lips behind his eyes every time they have to squish their faces together in the future, and he can’t decide whether that’s better or worse than how it was before.

He pulls Kitayama down for another kiss and this one is much slower, deep and soulful, and everything around them kind of fades away. Tamamori’s bitching about Miyata being clingy, Senga’s trying unsuccessfully to get Nikaido to go again, and Yokoo’s just happy that nothing got on his futons.

“Uh oh,” Miyata says with a laugh. “Looks like your plan may have worked _too_ well, Yokoo-san.”

Fujigaya ignores him, and he’s pretty sure Kitayama kisses him harder. Everyone may be onto something after all.

*

This time it’s reindeer antlers– ’tis the season– except Kitayama is in Fujigaya’s lap. Miyata has a big red nose, which he’s thrilled about since it puts him in the front of the line.

“You know this is your fault, right?” Kitayama hisses to him between shots. “If you hadn’t made such a big deal over that button–”

“You changed your shampoo,” Fujigaya cuts him off, flashing an unimpressed expression with his nose in Kitayama’s cheek.

“You’re welcome,” Kitayama says pointedly.

“I liked the apples better,” Fujigaya tells him, squeezing him tighter, and Kitayama’s smile is real.


End file.
